


Jilted

by Dr_Trunks_Briefs



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Depression, F/M, Gay Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:37:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Trunks_Briefs/pseuds/Dr_Trunks_Briefs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm Gohan. 30 years old. My marriage is crumbling. I'm starved for affection. I can see my life slipping through my fingers, but I can't stop it. Help. Please help me. All I want - all I need... is someone to say that they love me. (Yaoi, infidelity, depression)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I am weary

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up, kids, because this is going to get depressing. Yes, it is TruHan (Trunks x Gohan), but that will come in a little later. This fic contains thoughts of suicide, foul language, and graphic gay sex. Viewer discretion is advised.

Watching her fall out of love with me has been the most painful experience of my life.

I've lost my father countless times. I've been beaten into unconsciousness more times than that. I've been crushed by the weight of the world – and that was all before I was even 10 years old. Before I even graduated high school, I experienced the mass genocide of my planet before having the last droplet of life incinerated from me in a massive explosion.

I've known the crippling loneliness of being one of a kind – of being the sole member of a very unique species hybrid.

But this.

But Videl.

Nothing – no one – can hurt me like she can, even unintentionally.

I can understand why she fell out of love. I really can, and honestly, that's the worst part about it; the fact that I can understand is the worst. I always understand her.

We married young. Barely out of high school, and it just made sense, to be unified. Like me, she was one of a kind. She listened to me and she believed me, and maybe, that was part of the problem. I thought for sure no other girl on the planet could ever know me or hear me the way she could, seeing as my history was hard to swallow. Videl had the opportunity to see me for what I was up close; first hand. Buu's attack was a blessing in disguise, in that regard. Buu demonstrated for me the terms and conditions of my existence that I could never explain in my still-so-limited vocabulary.

Because I feared there would be no one else, I held onto her as tight as I could. Hey, we got along. We were friends, and after trudging through the depths of hell together, we could be closer. Near-total human extinction is a hell of a first date. Videl and I fit well together. When I asked her to marry me, she eagerly said yes. Our daughter, Pan, was born less than a year later, not long after I started college.

It started small, her falling out of love.

First, sex came to a slow stop. We fucked like crazy in high school, but after the birth of our daughter, it started to become more and more rare. I didn't think much of it at the time. After all, I was busy powering through my undergrad, graduate school, and obtaining two PhDs, and she was busy cleaning up the ever-growing Satan City as police chief. I spent all my time studying and she spent all her time working. The only time we spent together were the fleeting moments between.

I didn't really notice a change until I finally finished school and dropped into a period of well-deserved rest. I planned to spend some time as a house husband, writing research papers and textbooks, and tending to her and Pan, who had just celebrated her 8th birthday.

It was when I went to kiss her one night after Panny went to sleep – hoping to entice her into doing more, when she rebuffed my advances. She wouldn't even kiss me.

"I'm tired," she said. "It's been a long day."

"I understand," I replied. I always understand. We hugged and went to bed.

But it happened more and more frequently. She slighted my affection, no matter what time of day it was, if we were alone or in company, if we had just eaten or not, if she was happy or angry or bored… I tried to kiss her in as many different scenarios as I could within a month's time, careful not to try too often. The few she gave into were short and shallow, always leaving me asking for something a little more romantic. She usually refused, citing from her usual pool of excuses.

Around the same time, she stopped letting me cuddle with her at night. We had a huge bed, but I always slept right next to her, preferring to hold her as I dozed. But, that came to an end, too. She started ordering me farther and farther from her, until there was no way I could touch her, even if I spread my arms out on the mattress.

Eventually, she started banishing me to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms every now and then. By the time Pan turned 10, Videl and I rarely slept together. Whenever we did sleep in the same bed – in the same room, it was only because I insisted (I begged). During those times, I would wait for her to fall asleep so I could watch her through the dark. I would imagine being able to slide over and hold her close to me – to be close enough to smell her shampoo and feel her breath on my skin.

When she first cast me out of our room, I argued. I was tired of being pushed away.

"You can't kick me out!" I shouted, having had enough. "That's my bed!"

"No," she shot back, obviously not in the mood to debate back. "That's my bed. I picked it out and I paid for it."

I stood back, stunned. She dared me to retort. After a moment of silence, I turned and shut myself into the guest bedroom – which would eventually become 'my room.'

The look in her eyes that night, when she kicked me out for the first time, I saw no love. Gone was the curious, starry-eyed young girl I'd fallen in love with; the passionate girl who made it her mission to discover all of my secrets and learn about my power; the girl I taught to fly. Through the years, without even realizing it, I watched us grow apart and the fragile strings of an abstract emotion break away until we were once again two entirely separate entities.

That first night, I didn't sleep. I sat up and paced my room, the flighty feeling of fear swelling from my feet and up, leaving behind a cold, dark, sickening feeling. It all hit me at once.

My wife no longer loved me. She didn't hate me, but she didn't love me. I was a stranger in her house.

True, this Satan City mansion was built by her father for the two of us – sixty-six rooms and I'd only ever been in twelve of them. The house was in her name and she bought all the furniture and food inside. I was broke as fuck, coming from a poor family and being unemployed. Videl paid for me to go to college. Videl paid for my books – all of my books, not just my textbooks for class. Videl paid for the electricity, internet, phone bill, water, cable, health care, gardening – everything. She even paid for the clothes on my back and the glasses I wore.

I found myself starting to panic, as I paced the room. If she was going to claim our bed as hers and hers alone, it would only be a matter of time before she kicked me out of this house.

I stopped.

Could she try to take Pan from me?

Being divorced and homeless suddenly seemed like such small problems.

I wracked my memory, trying to remember if my name was on Pan's birth certificate.

Yes, of course it was.

Still, the thought filled me with such anxiety that I left the guest room and spent the rest of the night in Pan's, holding my little girl. Pan complained sleepily at first, as she wasn't used to sleeping with other people, but she eventually fell back into a contented sleep.

At that moment, I decided I couldn't just let this happen. The next morning, I cooked breakfast for everyone. Videl gave me a suspicious look, but I just smiled at her. After Pan left for school, I stole a kiss from my wife. She slapped my face and left. I cooked every meal for weeks after that, making sure to keep the house even more neat and tidy than I usually did. She would just glare at me distrustfully.

I managed to finish the textbooks I was writing and had them published, bringing some income into the household – not that we needed it. But I contributed, and that's what was important. I played with Pan, tutored her, walked to her to and from school, and parented to the best of my ability.

I even started working out with Piccolo again, building up my muscle tone. Months after the night Videl kicked me out of her bed, I was back to my old self; the way I looked after fighting Buu. I wasn't quite as strong and not nearly as buff as Dad, but at least I looked somewhat sculpted, just like in high school – albeit more mature. When I would come home after training; when I was sweaty, dirty, and shirtless, I noticed her lingering glances.

My heart would flutter in excitement and pride.

Finally, a step in the right direction.

That brings us to tonight.

Pan is away, spending the night with Bra and Marron, so Videl and I have the night to ourselves. Tonight will be the night I get to sleep in my bed again – and it won't be because I begged. I'll be able to touch and kiss my wife as I please, like a married man should. She'll finally love me again.

After making sure the house was neat and clean, I cooked a complicated, high-quality dinner. One where I paid for the ingredients with my textbook money and spent the entire day preparing. I was never much of a cook, but since I became a stay-at-home dad (and even more recently while trying to impress Videl), I've become quite good at it. I set the table around the time Videl was supposed to get off duty, arranging the meal as nicely as I could.

I smiled. It looked perfect.

My heart was pounding with nervous energy.

The door opened and closed. I lit the candles and dimmed the lights. Her boots tapped on the hardwood floor, coming this way. I took a deep breath, trying to give the illusion that I was confident in what I was about to attempt, but I couldn't stop from nervously twisting my wedding ring.

She glanced through the doorframe on her way past the dining room, and just as she passed, she did a double-take and turned around to see me and the beautiful meal I'd spread out for her. I didn't say anything as she looked at it, looked at me, looked back at it, then sighed.

"Do you like it?" I inquired, shifting my weight as she placed a hand on her forehead. She drew her lips in a thin line and turned away, then turned back and stared straight at me.

"It's our first night alone in a while," I continued, "so I thought I'd cook something nice for you." She sighed again, still staring at me. I felt examined – not desired, as I'd hoped – under her gaze. She didn't look happy, but she didn't look mad, either. It was as if all my flaws were exposed and magnified. I kept twisting my wedding ring, shifting my weight again.

"C-Come sit down," I offered, pulling a chair out for her. She didn't move from the doorframe. She just watched me. My hands trembled and my knees felt weak, but I hid it and held myself together. With her, it felt as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. What little confidence I had was evaporating off of me.

"I don't want to have sex," she said flatly, crossing her arms.

"I didn't ask for sex. I just made dinner, that's all."

"You're lying." Videl closed her eyes and leaned against the doorframe. "I know what you're doing, and I'm not going to fall for it."

"'Fall for it'?" I repeated. "I'm not trying to trick you. I'm…"

"You're trying to lull me into a false sense of security so you can convince your way back into my bed," she accused, her voice rising. "You've pretended to change so we'll have sex, but that's not going to happen."

"Videl, I'm – …"

"No. Like I said, I'm not falling for it. You can eat all of this yourself, I'm feeling sick." She turned to walk away, but I grabbed her wrist. She froze.

Gently, hesitantly, I turned her to me and pulled her into a careful hug. Her arms hung limp by her sides, unresponsive, but every nerve on my body was standing on end, reeling from the first contact we'd had in what felt like eons, aside from the times she'd slap me across the face. I was so excited. My head felt like it was swimming. I smiled gleefully, my heart pounding against my ribcage, as I tried to memorize every single detail of the hug, because I wasn't sure when my next chance would be.

How soft her skin was. How small she felt in my arms. How sweet she smelled. I couldn't get enough of her, drowning in the pleasure of having permission to touch her. I didn't have to beg for this. I didn't have to steal it. She was actually letting me hug her!

"What do you want from me?" she asked in a small voice, barely audible. I sobered up, having to decipher her words as they muffled against my shirt.

Huh?

What did she mean by that? By what I wanted from her?

I was afraid to speak; to ask for clarification. Didn't she just accuse me of wanting sex from her? Sure, I had hoped cooking dinner would lead to better things, but it wasn't all I wanted from her.

I wanted her to eat what I cooked. I wanted her to tell me about her day. I wanted her to flash playful blues at me, to smile, to blush, to laugh at my stupid jokes, to listen and sigh lightheartedly as I'd tell her how beautiful and wonderful she is and how much I love and admire her. I wanted her to show interest in me. To touch my hand. To sit a little closer to me. …To hug me back. Kiss me. Sleep next to me.

"…I love you," was the only thing I managed to whisper, my breath moving the soft hairs on the top of her head.

She pulled away easily. She walked away.

I left the food on the table to spoil.

Later that night, after showering in the bathroom attached to the guest bedroom – my bedroom – I knocked on her door. No answer. I tried the handle.

It was locked.

I stared at my hand resting there, wedding ring glistening in the dimly lit hallway.

I was empty.

Alone.

Lost.

Jilted.


	2. From a love that games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The TruHan is coming soon! This fic contains thoughts of suicide, foul language, and graphic gay sex. Viewer discretion is advised.

The next morning, I stayed in bed, watching the sun rise and move across the sky through my window. I hadn't realized how late it had gotten until Pan knocked on my door and peeked inside. When I turned to see her, she was unpinning her school badge from her shirt.

"Are you okay, Papa?" she asked quietly as she walked up to my bed. I must have looked like a wreck. I felt like one.

"I don't feel okay," I replied in an underused voice.

"I'll make you some soup," she offered, patting my hair the way I pat hers whenever she feels bad. She thought I was sick. I forced a smile.

"Thanks, Panny, but I'll be okay. I just need to rest."

She nodded at me. "Call me if you need something," she said, waving her little pink phone at me. It was thin and touch screen – some sort of fancy pocket computer from Capsule Corp, just like mine. Like I ever used the thing.

She left, and I stared at the ceiling.

I'll be okay. I just need to rest, I thought sourly. I'll be okay. I'll be okay. I just need to rest.

"Gohan," a deep voice rang out from the corner of my bedroom. I didn't look up. I wasn't surprised. Piccolo has always watched over me ever since I was a kid. The shit he's seen. "Get out of bed." He was stern. No arguing. As a master should be.

I got out of bed.

xx

Weeks later, I watched disdainfully from across the balcony as the happy couple shared a kiss, making all of our friends and family melt at the sight. A few months ago, Trunks had asked Marron to marry him. They certainly made a cute couple, I had to admit, but these days my stomach would turn whenever I saw a pair even remotely happy.

Stealing a glance at Videl, who was smiling along with my mother and Bulma, my stomach turned more.

Ever since she rejected me the night I made dinner, I had almost completely backed off. I couldn't take it anymore, so I just stopped trying. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was fear, maybe anger, or… or maybe it was all three. I just couldn't risk it anymore. We kept up a good façade in front of the others. If anyone suspected anything, they didn't say anything.

The only two people who know about our situation are fairly tight-lipped. After all, Dende and Piccolo aren't known for being extremely chatty.

From her place next to Trunks, Marron smiled at me. I was zoned out, so I didn't realize it until after she started walking towards me, tugging on her soon-to-be husband's arm. Marron was on the short side, like Krillin, but she inherited a thin frame from her mother. It was amazing that an 18-year-old girl who was only about half a foot taller than my 10-year-old could drag a tall, built guy like Trunks along with little effort.

"Why the long face, Gohan?" she asked in a gentle voice. It was deep for a girl; low and velvety, yet soft. It was very reminiscent of her mother, 18. In fact, if I couldn't see her face, I'd probably mistake the two of them.

"Goten took the last orange soda," I lied quickly, making Marron giggle.

"I'll get some more," Trunks offered, leaving before I could stop him.

"Wait, Trunks, it's not a big deal – …" He waved me off, not even bothering to look back as his phone made a little chime. He pulled it out of his pocket as he walked and forgot my protests immediately. Oh well.

Marron sat next to me and put her hands over mine. I looked at her in surprise, unfamiliar with the contact, but I didn't move away. Her hands were small and soft – nice. She smiled at me.

"Pan's such a sweet girl," she commented. "I'm really excited to have her as my maid of honor." Marron was the epitome of a 'cool girl,' and she was one of the common topics Pan would have on her mind from day to day. "…And I'm really glad you were able to make it to the wedding. Pan told me you've been so busy with work that you hardly even sleep in your own room anymore."

Is that what Pan assumes? Marron smiled softly at me.

"You mean a lot to us, you know. To me, to my parents, to Trunks and his family – so you should take some time and open up a little. It's been a long time."

My eyebrow twitched and I started to get anxious.

"…I'd love to, but things are kind of hectic right now. I have a lot to work out."

She was quiet for a moment, watching my eyes intensely. I couldn't stare back for long before I started glancing away. Her hands were still on mine, squeezing at a constant, gentle pressure.

"I understand," she said finally, tilting her head and grinning at me. "Just whenever you can. It'd be nice to have you back."

She got up and walked away.

xx

That night, I went out drinking with Goten and Trunks in West City. I didn't want to go initially, but Goten slapped me on the back and insisted, telling me I needed it. Everyone was sleeping at Capsule Corporation tonight instead of making the trip back home, and I needed to loosen up.

Pushy kid.

Well, it's not like anyone was waiting for me.

I started small, sipping a beer while the boys went at it as if they were racing to see who could get shitfaced first. My brother and Trunks, 20 and 21 years old respectively, had a remarkable friendship. While I'd say my best friend was Piccolo without hesitation, he's not the type of person you can drink with, fight with, and end up sleeping off a hangover with, all while throwing insults and jokes around.

Thinking about it, the only person I'd ever really had a relationship even somewhat similar to that with was Sharpner, but that was ages ago. Those were days I missed, actually. Glory days indeed.

"God damn, Gohan," Trunks laughed before taking another swing of his mug.

"What?" I asked, feeling defensive from his tone.

"You're always so pensive. You think too much – I can see it all over your face. Loosen the fuck up."

"He's a good boy," Goten sighed with an air of false admiration. "He's always studied and worked hard. A real straight arrow."

I rolled my eyes and downed the rest of my drink. "I had to be to raise a kid like you. Someone had to balance you out."

"Oh, what a comeback," my brother replied sarcastically, giving me a grin. He sloppily poured more beer in my mug, so my drink was half froth. I glared at him and he shrugged, insincere in his apologies. "Sorry, I suck at pouring drinks."

"You're the worst," I grumbled.

"Didn't you ever have fun?" Trunks asked, leaning in. "And I don't mean like some shitty book you thought was 'fun,' I mean fun. Go out, get drunk, fuck a few chicks, then stumble back home and sleep the day away."

"Gohan?" Goten replied before I could stutter a response. "This is the guy who dated the same girl for three years in high school, married her right after, and then made summa cum laude for his undergrad and grad school."

"Hey, I had fun in high school!" I retorted, still feeling defensive. They turned expectant eyes to me and my confidence withered away. "I did a lot of stuff in high school that no one knows about. Not you, not you, not Videl – no one." I managed to pour most of the head from my beer into Goten's empty glass. "Well, except Dende, probably."

"So tell us, Bro-bro," Goten lilted, tossing the head from his glass over his shoulder so it splattered onto the floor. The waitress walking by glared at him, but didn't say anything. "What kind of secret fun did you have in high school?"

"Well…" I started, voice wavering. The boys leaned in. Memories of my friends from high school flooded back to me. "Well…" It had been so long since I actually indulged in those memories, it almost felt like they were from a different life. "Well, I'm going to have to be a lot more drunk to tell you."

It didn't take long. Goten and Trunks both kept the drinks coming for me and my mind started feeling hazy, inhibitions fading.

"There was a period of time in high school where I was kind of a hedonist," I explained easily, swirling my drink in its glass sloppily. "Me and my buddy, Sharpner, drank and smoked and fucked girls."

"Bullshit," Trunks cut me off with an evil smirk.

"I'm not lying!" I insisted, my face red.

"What about Videl?" Goten asked, staring at me with wide eyes.

"We hadn't started dating, yet. It was after Buu, but before the wish could be made for everyone to forget everything. She wanted to date, but I wasn't ready. She never knew, but I spent that time experimenting and getting into massive amounts of trouble."

I downed the rest of my drink, but pulled away when Goten tried to refill it. Trunks refilled it, instead, and did only a slightly better job. By this point, I was too wasted to care.

"Sharp and I once got blackout drunk at a party and woke up naked on some stranger's couch with some stark naked girl on top of me and Sharp on the floor next to me. There were people I didn' know everywhere, all asleep, most of 'em naked like us. No fuckin' idea what happened. Place was a fuckin' wreck."

"Sweet little schoolboy Gohan," Trunks grinned, leaning back in the booth. I grinned, too, thinking back to what was, at the time, one of the worst social situations I'd ever been in. "Naked and confused with a girl on top of him. I can picture that."

"I can't remember anythin' from that night, but all I needed to remember came from the next morning. The girl's parents came home to see a bunch of hungover high schoolers asleep on their livin' room floor – most of 'em naked – and their beautiful home trashed by cheap beer and garbage."

"What did you do?" he asked with a laugh.

"People started wakin' up as the mom started screamin'. I was frantically tryin' to find my clothes and wake Sharpner up, but he was out cold. The dad was throwin' stuff at us and yankin' people up to their feet – I was so fuckin' scared."

"Did you get away?"

"I wouldn't say I got away. Well, sorta, yeah, I did. By jumping from the frying pan to the fire, I got away. I finally found my jeans when Dad teleported in on top of them."

"Oh God no," Goten groaned, covering his face. I laughed.

"Yeah. He was so clueless to what he was actually looking at. To everyone else, this random guy just materialized outta nowhere in the middle of all that chaos. The parents screamed, the other kids screamed, I screamed… He was legitimately worried, though, 'cause he said, 'Gohan, yer ma's real mad. She told me to come an' get ya.' So he grabbed my arm and teleported me back to the house – I was still naked, I smelled horrible, and the worst part was that Sharpner just happened to grab me at the same time, like he was gonna pull me away from my dad."

By this point, Trunks was laughing aloud, holding his abdomen. Goten was grinning as he leaned against me.

"Wait, I think I remember this. Mom was fucking horrified to see you and this blonde guy when Dad teleported you home. She had stayed up all night waiting for you. She told me to go outside and play but I could still hear it," he devolved into laughter.

"I thought you said no one else knew about these stories?!" Trunks exclaimed. I rolled my eyes at him.

"You think my mom – my mom – is gonna go around telling everyone she knows about the time Dad brought her hungover son and his degenerate friend home from a night of sex and drugs?"

"I don't know. My mom loves to tell people about how shitty her son is," Trunks replied teasingly, winking at me, before chugging his glass.

"I got a ton of these. 6 months is a long time to get into some massive trouble. Videl doesn't know about any of it. Not the time Sharpner and I got high and robbed a donut store in our underwear, not the time we accidentally flooded the second floor of the school, not the time we decided to dress up as Santa Clauses and hand out STD awareness pamphlets to all the students – except it wasn't Christmas, it wasn't our school, we were high as fuck, and we were almost arrested for breaking into Satan Academy."

"God damn Gohan," Goten laughed and clapped me hard on the back.

"That's not even the craziest thing I did," I baited hesitantly. That got them excited as they tried to pry it out of me, but second thoughts sprang up almost as soon as the words left my mouth.

"You can't just tease us with that and decide not to tell us," Trunks snapped, goading me on.

"No, it's stupid." It really is. I've had too much alcohol. They don't need to know – …

"Tell us!" they pushed, pushing another drink into my hand.

"Fine!" I growled. "We…" I smiled nervously before taking a sip of the beer. "Sorry to disappoint you, but it's not as crazy as I made it sound."

"Gohan, if you don't say it right fucking now," Trunks threatened, leaving the rest to be implied. I finished my drink quickly and slammed the glass onto the table just gently enough to keep it from cracking.

"We fucked."

Silence.

"Once."

More silence.

"Me and Sharpner."

Even more silence.

"As usual, we were both high, and happened to be horny at the same time, and…"

I looked away. My face was on fire. I knew I shouldn't have said anything.

Suddenly they both cracked up, as if they couldn't believe it. Then came a barrage of questions, most of which I didn't answer.

"You fucked this guy? Or he fucked you?" Goten asked, though it was more of a statement. "I can't believe my brother – my sweet, straight arrow, serious older brother… well," he lifted his glass as if toasting me, "Not that much of a straight arrow." I narrowed my eyes at him, though a playful smile was still tugging at me out of my control.

"Were you top or bottom?" Trunks asked, leaning heavily onto the table.

"Bottom…" I answered warily, to which Goten burst out laughing.

"Bareback or no?" he continued, ignoring his friend. An interested smile was on his face. Just how drunk was he?

"Bareback."

"I never needed to know this much about you," Goten complained teasingly.

"Was he a bear, bunny, bull, jock, twink…"

"What does that even mean? He was a human!" my brother answered for me, incredulous, yet still laughing.

I smiled uneasily, "I'm kind of thinking the same… what are you talking about? Why do you even wanna know?"

"I never knew you were into guys! I'm just curious!" he leaned back, though he was still staring at me, giving me this weird smile.

"I don't go broadcasting my kinks to people," I said as I cut my eyes at my brother, "like some people do."

"Hey, we've had this conversation already. Just because I like feet and I'm proud of it, doesn't mean I'm broadcasting!"

"So what happened to your boyfriend?" Trunks asked. I couldn't look at him as some kind of uncomfortable knot tied up in my stomach. "You two have a lover's quarrel?"

"We never dated; that was just one time. It was just sex. We were just friends." My head was clearing for the moment, but I knew the alcoholic haze would come back. "We didn't have a fight, either. Sharp was a great guy. He knew who I was and what I could do, and unlike everyone else at school – save for Videl and a few others – he wasn't afraid of me. He thought I was cool. He understood me."

"So how come we never heard of him? And why don't you guys hang out anymore?" Goten asked with a slur. He leaned heavily on me and closed his eyes. He was clearly at his limit. "Come to think of it, I never saw any blonde guy named Sharpner at yours n' Videl's wedding… You sure he was real?"

"He was real," I said softly, watching the bubbles rise in my beer. "But after the wish to Shenron was made for everyone to forget about Buu and everything that happened… My powers and who I was all tied into it, and the fun we had tied into it, too. Everything went back to the way it was before the tournament."

We were quiet for a little while. For once the entire night, our booth was the quietest in the pub, letting the sounds of laughter, music, and glasses clinking filter back to me.

"He forgot about me."

Goten patted my arm with little coordination, but it was comforting, still. Otherwise, we were quiet.

"Bummer," Trunks finally replied in a dry tone.


End file.
